Salt in my Wounds
by halinar
Summary: Sequel to "Living as Gods." Xander and Andrew try to get over their grief of Anya's death after holding it in but her death still hurts them...


Salt in My Wounds

By Halina Renata

_No, you might survive. You know how to handle a weapon, and you've been in this world for, like, a thousand years. I'm not so...I don't think I'll be OK. I'm cool with it. I think I'd like to...finish out as one of those... lame humans trying to do what's right. _

                                                --_Andrew, End of Days_

_XANDER: __So, did you see?_

_ANDREW__: I—I was scared. I'm sorry._

_XANDER: __Did you see what happened? I mean, was she..._

_ANDREW__: She was incredible. She died saving my life._

_XANDER: __That's my girl. Always doing the stupid thing._

_                                --__Chosen___

Five days, two hours and approximately forty two minutes.

Five days, two hours and approximately forty two minutes since she had died. Xander had been keeping count just to make sure he didn't forget her at any point in time. She was always in the back of his mind. She was the one he thought about at least a thousand times a day, whether they be the good times, the bad times, the jokes, the arguments, the sex of the just plain platonic. All of them were in his memory, suddenly resurfacing and he only had them to remember her by now.

It was a relationship built first out of convenience but then developed into something more. A high school educated carpenter and a thousand year old ex-demon. In Love! They were supposed to get married. It was all supposed to be perfect. Until he did the unbelievable thing…

To this day, Xander wasn't completely sure of the reasons as to why he had left Anya at the altar. Part of him felt blindingly guilty. He had devoted everything to her and vice versa. He had wanted to be with her forever. She was almost like his best friend, his companion. They had spent three years together—was that not a sign? And no, when the day finally came, he just couldn't do it. Maybe they were rushing too far into things. Either way, Xander walked away without logical reasoning in his head.

She was pissed off, to put it mildly. But after her whole demonic spell and reverting back to normal, Xander couldn't help falling back into that deep love with her as well. He had never not loved her, even when he supposedly left her. She had changed over the years past her materialistic phase into an understanding person but still lacked that ability to understand humans. Xander had loved every bit of her.

Five days, two hours and approximately forty three minutes.

They'd had break up sex! Wasn't that a sign too! They had both lied to each other and said it meant nothing to each other. That was the next biggest lie of his life. He had loved her to the end and when he last saw her as she walked off with Andrew. Those last words spoken.

_We will defend it with out very lives._

_Yes, we will defend it with his very life._

_And don't be afraid to use him as a human shield._

_Good, yes, thanks._

In fact, it turned out to be the other way round. Anya had sacrificed herself and the person to survive was Andrew. Xander, past his grief, could see the obvious abject horror and shock on the younger man's face as he stumbled off the bus, blooded and shaking, mumbling incoherent words. Then there was the emptiness as he wandered off alone that night to his thoughts and _remain _alone.

And Xander had been the one to pull him away from the edge.

He had been looking down a cliff, preparing to jump into an oblivion of self destruction, guilt and loneliness and Xander had taken him and brought him back before he could do anything. Xander didn't even know why he went. Buffy had come back, saying that Andrew was on edge, snappy and still wanted to be alone. Even Buffy admitted she was worried so Xander pulled himself up and went in search for the younger man.

Through his words, he managed to persuade Andrew that he wasn't a lost cause and a mistake in fate's twisted events. Xander was good with his words. When being sincere, his words and tone meant truth and belief, even if it meant preparing to die.

Five days, two hours and approximately forty four minutes.

The pain was becoming too much. Xander tried to force his eyes away from his watch again but it was becoming an unhealthy habit. The silence was killing him, though. Most of the Potentials had been shipped back to their homes from where they were staying in a nearby town. Giles wanted to go back to England for a while. The rest of the plans were unknown.

He watched where Andrew was sitting on the window sill of the room they were sharing, staring out at the sunny streets below. Everything seemed so bright outside. The harsh sunlight shone on every green blade of grass and flower; it reflected off the window and on the building opposite them and the cars driving on the streets below; men, women and children basked in it. Andrew and Xander still weren't ones for basking.

"Hey, what times it is?" Xander asked, trying to make his voice sound somewhat cheerful. He knew perfectly well what time it was.

"There's a watch on your wrist," Andrew answered blankly, not turning around.

Xander watched him sigh, his shoulders sagging as he continued looking out of the window. Andrew had been like this for the last five days, just sitting and staring out at nothing. He barely spoke. It was driving Xander insane. For a boy who spent most of his time chatting idly chatting about absolutely anything and everything that was on his mind, the now withdrawn sound of his voice was killing him. He longed to hear an Andrew whine or some useless piece of Star Wars information…

"Are you all right?" Buffy had asked the next morning, after Xander had brought Andrew back. They were the first ones awake. Everyone else was still asleep by the smouldering fire.

"Xander nodded. I'm holding up, I guess." He looked down. "I mean, it hurts, yeah." He laughed lightly. "I expect it too. Just gotta wait for the pain to pass. Get on with life."

Buffy smiled understandingly, feeling the same way considering her loss of Spike. And by now, Buddy was very much used to the feeling off loss. "Yeah, I guess it does." She looked around at the remaining people still dormant. Her gaze fell upon the figure lying next to Xander. "How's Andrew?"

Xander's eyebrows rose. He hadn't ever actually heard those words out of Buffy's mouth. He supposed now was the time for change and start things that they really hadn't done. He looked down at the blond boy and shrugged. "I guess he's all right. I mean, he's hurting too, like all of us. He ought to make it out of it all right."

The man wasn't so sure now. Andrew had spent the best part of five days continuing his withdrawal. Of course, Buffy Giles, Willow and Faith did the best they could to make him feel wanted and appreciated now. They hadn't realized how severe Andrew's feelings were before and now after the battle. But there was a fine line between making someone feel wanted and just plain overdoing it. Andrew had begun to sense that later and moved back into his shell. Xander noticed this too. He didn't know when he had started to become the boy's guardian, but it seemed he needed someone.

Xander sighed. "Can you stop staring out that window?" he asked, exasperated. "Just for one minute?"

Andrew climbed down from the sill. "Sorry." 

The darker hared man immediately felt guilt and anger well up in him at the same time. "No, don't be sorry," he said, putting effort into those words. "Just…stop living in a world of your own, Andrew. There's just this world and we're all in the same boat here. Everyone's situation's the same." He pulled the covers of the bed he had been sleeping in.

Andrew shrugged. He had nothing better to say. Xander was always right and that was a fact. Everyone was right except him. He had been surprised that Xander was willingly staying with him. He seemed the only one with genuine feelings towards him, who didn't push him into anything or strained too much to find conversation. He just said what he felt. Andrew had been even more surprised when Xander had offered to share a room with him. Maybe there was some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe he was swimming toward the surface. He just waited until he started sinking again.

He regarded his roommate with curiosity. Xander was fussing again, a sure sign that he was getting agitated. Andrew had been around long enough to realize when something was wrong. He fidgeted slightly. "Do you still think about her like that?" Andrew asked quietly.

Xander looked up at him, his dark chocolate eyes boring into Andrew's icy blue ones. For a moment, he didn't know to say. He didn't expect Andrew to say very much, least of all that. They hadn't really talked about Anya since that night. "Well—err—yeah. It's like—it's like some sort of tightening pain in my stomach every time I think about it." He nodded as he sat down on the freshly made bed. "Yeah, pain."

Andrew scrunched up his nose and shook his head, as if disagreeing. "No, pain is when someone deliberately rubs salt into your open wound."

Xander raised the eyebrow above his good eye. "And you would know how that felt?"

"Yes."

Xander kicked himself for saying something so stupid. He'd wanted useless information from Andrew and he got it, only to push it away again. Sometimes, he wondered why he was so stupid. Of course, Andrew knew how that felt. He'd probably had the actual thing physically done to him. "Sorry. I'm just…it's hard thinking about her right now, let alone talking about it."

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Should I stop? I'm sorry."

The dark haired man smiled at the way Andrew constantly tried to make something better. To Andrew, everything was his fault which he had to put right and that kind of self in confidence had to stop before it spiralled out of control again. "Don't stop," he said lightly, giving Andrew an encouraging smile. "I…I need to talk about it at some point or else it will just eat me up inside. And…and you were there with her at the very end. Did she say anything? Anything at all?"

Andrew sat down on the bed opposite Xander and crossed his legs. He liked to get comfortable, especially when he was talking about something serious. Xander watched his eyes seeing how they were thinking back to that day. Then he looked back towards his friend. "I…I get the feeling she didn't like bunnies."

The blond boy wasn't sure what kind of response he was going to get from that. The last thing he expected was Xander to sit there and suddenly, burst out laughing, flinging his head back. His laugh was infectious. Andrew found himself giggling, wondering if he knew what the joke should be about. He thought this was the first time Xander had laughed properly since the day of the battle. It sounded like music to him, a part of the past resurfaced. Finally, Xander sat back up. "Yeah, she didn't like bunnies. They were an omen."

Andrew grinned. "I told her to think of nice things, with the Bringers and everything coming. Ice cream and stuff, and bunnies. And she lifted her axe. I thought she was going to hit me." His grin slowly mellowed out into a shy smile. Xander was watching him, listening onto his every word like he was watching the last drops of water trickling from a tap. 

He looked down into his lap, unable to meet that sincere and heart warming gaze. He could see the pain reflected in Xander's eyes for the loss of someone close to him. No one was going to be able to replace what was missing from Xander's heart. Anya was going to be in him forever. If anything, that made him feel slightly worse. It was that feeling that Andrew hated. Xander was feeling this pain and hurt because Anya had done the sacrifice to save him. God, Andrew should be the cause of his pain and that made him feel guilty. Andrew thought he would probably have felt better if the man hated him for making Anya kill herself. 

Xander laughed suddenly, breaking the silence. "Yeah, she didn't like bunnies. She loved money, though. She loved the Magic Shop, when it was around. Money and sex." Andrew squirmed slightly at the mention of the word. "She was the same right up until the very end. Only she got braver. She didn't run away this time."

Andrew smiled. "Yeah. She said she ran away in a previous apocalypse."

"Yeah.  This time she didn't run. She stuck out to the end. And it made her a better person." He frowned as he tried to think about what he was trying to say. "It was kinda like, a whole new person but I could see the old Anya in there somewhere. Even after we broke up and tried to get back together."

"Yeah, I saw her having sex with Spike," Andrew said and immediately closed his mouth. That was the last thing Xander probably wanted to be reminded about. "And she talked about break up sex in the bed. She told me, whilst we were at the hospital, that humans kept on sticking to what they were doing right up until the end…like our lives are meaningless. But she was still there fighting along with us to the end." He grinned. "Then we had a wheelchair fight." Xander smiled back.

 There was a silence again that hung over them. Except this time, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence whereby one was waiting for the other to say something. Xander was feeling the pressure of the lack of communication. Andrew wasn't fidgeting with nervousness. There they were, the two of them, sitting opposite one another on their beds, just thinking silently to themselves, their own thoughts about Anya. Her bubbly innocent self, always looking at things in a forward approach and never to worried to say what was on her mind in any situation. Somehow, it was never hurtful. Anya could always get away with it. She had become a valuable member of the group.

_You are the perfect woman…_

_I like to think so_

Andrew wished he could turn back time again. Despite that Xander had said to him that night, he wished that he could turn back time and trade places with Anya. That way he wouldn't have to see the look on Xander's face every time he thought about his girlfriend. Yeah, even though they'd broken up and said over and over to each other and themselves that there was nothing between them, they were in love. Andrew knew what the pain felt like. When the initial shock wore off all that was left was numbness and this tightening sensation when you finally realize…that person was gone.

He'd felt it when he'd killed Jonathan. He didn't what he'd done at first. It was only when he was the one standing over the seal, wondering how Jonathan felt when he saw his best friend about to drive a knife right though him that Andrew knew what he'd done. He'd killed his best friend. And there was nothing more to it. He'd lost everything. Xander hadn't.

"Why did she do it?" Xander asked and Andrew looked back into Andrew's innocent looking gaze. "I mean, she had everything to look forward to. Why did she do it for me?"

Xander shrugged lightly and sat back. "Maybe she thought exactly the same way about you. I mean, you do have a lot to look forward to as well, Andrew."

The blond boy shrugged, like he wasn't too sure about it.

Xander pretended not to notice the self pity that radiated off him. Andrew always seemed to go quiet when happy or thoughtful thoughts were centred on him. "And…And I think she had kind of a soft spot for you, towards the end. Despite all the teasing and things she said to you. I think…maybe she thought you deserved a second chance…" He put his hands on his knees. "There are any number of reasons. I still didn't know her well enough to know how her mind worked."

Andrew smiled slightly. "It almost makes me sound worthwhile."

The older man looked at him for a moment. The sad look had returned into Andrew's eyes again. Xander put his hand on his shoulder and lifted his head up to make sure he was looking at him. "Andrew. You have to stop this. You are worthwhile; otherwise Anya wouldn't have done it. And I think so because I believe in what she did. We've been through this."

Tears had started glistening in Andrew's eyes. That sharp blue seemed to be watered down to a kind of pale colour. "She loved you," Andrew said, his voice beginning to crack. "She did, even though she couldn't say it. And now she's done and you didn't even get to say goodbye or anything…" He put his hands up to his face, roughly wiping away threatening tears, ashamed of crying in front of Xander.

Xander just moved onto his bed, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. He no longer felt awkward about doing it. Andrew had done the same to him before, now it was his turn to return to the favour. Anything to make Andrew stop crying. It hurt his ears and gave him another painful feeling. He rubbed his arm comfortingly and let Andrew cry for a few moments although he could tell that the boy was trying very hard to stop. He couldn't hate him. He wanted to in the beginning. He wanted to maybe hit Andrew, yell at him, curse…but he couldn't. "I loved her too," Xander said quietly. "And she knows that. I'm sure she can see us right now. She knows that we both loved her in different ways and that we're both hurting. But she's okay."

Andrew wiped his eyes, forcing the moisture out of them. If he wasn't careful, he probably poke them out. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He sniffed. "At least you're not the reason you're grieving the loss of someone. I…I think it must make someone feel a lot better."

Xander lowered his eyes. "Jonathan knows as well."

Then younger boy detached himself from Xander, almost ashamed to be accepting comfort from him. He stood to freshen himself and move away slightly. He wanted to show that he was somewhat independent and could get by without anyone's help. Xander's words had once again comforted him but this time added his own belief that Andrew wasn't a waste. It made him better to hear it from him. He looked over at the darker haired man who was still sitting on the bed. "Are you coming downstairs? Buffy said she wanted to see us at half past six."

Xander looked down at his watch automatically even though he knew he didn't need to. Five days, three hours and approximately two minutes. He needed to stop doing that. But it was still six thirty. Andrew was right. Buffy did want to see them but suddenly, he couldn't summon the energy to move. His legs felt as heavy as lead. Talking to Andrew had once again brought a whole lot of things to light. Somehow, the younger man had a way of doing that. And the last person he expected that to happen with was Andrew.

He simply shook his head. "No, probably not. I'll come down a bit later. I'm…suddenly feeling a whole lot tired."

Andrew just nodded silently as he walked towards the door. Xander had lain down on his bed, that look on his face had returned. "You need to stop doing do much thinking," Andrew said, like he was studying him. "It's not healthy. Besides you're more of…an active guy."

Xander smiled, knowing exactly what Andrew was implying. "Salt in my wounds again, huh?" he asked, raising that eyebrow.

"Yeah, but they have to heal, I guess." He walked out of the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Sighing, he made his way back downstairs.

*  *  *  *  *

Sitting in between Willow and Principal Wood wasn't exactly a daunting experience. It never really had been. Andrew used to be in a position, before the battle, where he didn't care what people thought of him too much so everyone could give him looks and he would attempt to make his impressions better. Then he'd started to care again. Now, a lassaiz faire attitude had started to settle over Andrew and not only he did no longer care, but he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it either. Principal Wood could be a very intimidating man when he wanted to be. And Willow used to make Andrew nervous, what with him being associated with her girlfriend's death.

Buffy was talking, again. Andrew suddenly found it very hard to keep his eyes open. Maybe he should have gone to sleep as well. He didn't know that someone was talking to him till he felt someone nudging him in the ribs and he looked up around him. People were looking at him. He hated it when people look at him. "Err—what was the question?" he asked sheepishly.

Buffy's face, for once, wasn't creased into a frown when she was giving a speech. "Are you okay?" she asked. Andrew looked into her face, trying to determine the meaning behind the words. Strangely enough, they seemed genuine and heart felt, not forced.

He nodded dumbly. "Yeah. Why?"

"Cause you kinda zoned out there for a while, kid," Faith answered, grinning at him. Andrew just managed a smile back.

Buffy was the one to come up to him after the meeting was over and people were beginning to retire back to their beds. Out of all the people, Andrew still felt a bit wary around Buffy. He expected in the end, it would be Buffy that would be the one to tell him to take a hike or get lost. She had that kind of power and confidence. But so far, she was being nice to him. Maybe she was feeling guilty after what happened.

Who knows? And once again, Andrew didn't care.

"Hey," she said, coming up to him as he was heading towards the door. Andrew looked around to make sure she was actually talking to him and not anyone else in the room. But he knew her gaze was fixed solely on him. "Were you okay back there? Faith was right, you did seem a little—weirded out back there."

Andrew shook his head. "I'm fine. Really."

"Is Xander okay?"

Aha! The purpose of her visit, he presumed.

This time, he just shrugged whilst putting his hands into the pockets of the jeans he'd bought yesterday. "I think he's okay. Just kinda hurting, I guess. He probably hasn't gotten over Anya…not that I'm expecting him to or anything."

Buffy smiled. "It's all right, Andrew. I understand." She looked at the boy squarely in the eye and Andrew couldn't even fidget this time under her piercing stare. "You're good to him. You're…looking out for him, I guess. He needs that at the moment to help get over Anya and make the pain lessen."

Andrew leaned against the doorframe. "Has your pain gone?"

Buffy just kind of gave him an even sadder smile. Andrew was the one who didn't understand about these sorts of things. "The pain never does go away, Andrew. It stays. You just have to learn to live with it." Andrew nodded, realizing why he felt this way about Jonathan still.

She shook her head. "Hey, some of us are heading out to Sunnydale again; see what's left of the High School. I think we're ready. Or at least I am. Do you know if Xander wants to come?"

Xander looked towards the stairs. He didn't want to speak for the man. He didn't know Xander that well to know. If anything, Buffy should be able to determine that. Finally, he scrunched up his nose and shook his head. "I don't think so," he answered. "I don't think he's ready just yet. Too much thinking still going on. Too much salt."

Buffy nodded, as if she understood. "So—err—you gonna come with me?"

He figured that he looked as though this was some kind of proposition. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. He didn't remember Buffy Summers being this nice to him. It didn't feel like sympathy either. Buffy wasn't one for much sympathy, especially towards him. She had been the one to remind to remind him that he had murdered his best friend. Now it looked as though things were different. Now was a time a time for changing, he presumed.

Now was the time to grasp at those straws, no matter what kind of weird shape they were.

He nodded. "Okay," he said and walked back upstairs to Xander who was still asleep on his bed. His face seemed relaxed and Andrew wondered if he was dreaming about Anya even when he was asleep. His face didn't seem to show the grief of her death. Andrew sighed and lay down on his bed, facing away from the face whose guilt ridden mind tormented him. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for that ache in his heart to go away again.

And when it finally did, when he bordered on consciousness and sleep, he thought things could get better for all of them.

_My sequel to Living as Gods, lol.__ Was it still good, please review and tell me, I really want to know! Because I'd like to write this as a little trilogy and people's opinions are very much appreciated. Thanks….._


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